


A Dream Come True

by darkness_prince_dan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coffee Shop, M/M, Soulmates, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 17:30:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7183385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkness_prince_dan/pseuds/darkness_prince_dan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan’s got a major crush on an artist that frequents the coffee shop Dan works at and then there are magical drawings appearing on Dan’s arms. He should not be as cool with that as he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dream Come True

**Author's Note:**

> This is a requested fic. The person asked for a soulmate au and I added the coffee shop aspect cos I'm trash for those lol  
> Also let’s assume that Dan’s handwriting is actually legible for the sake of this fic

The sentences he wrote on his forearms were pretentious as shit, Dan could admit to that. But ever since he was little he wanted to become a writer, a famous author whose stories would entice people and make them reread his books over and over. So practising riveting lines by etching them on his skin kind of became a thing. His mother used to tut at him for always having smeared lines of blue ink running down his arms, fondly calling him her blueberry and just sighing before sending him to scrub his skin clean. Though, the next day the story would repeat itself again and soon his mother stopped even commenting on it.

Dan was sixteen when he finally and permanently outgrew that habit thanks to all the remarks and looks he received at school and outside of it. The dream of becoming a writer also took a back seat because _honestly, Daniel, how do you expect to survive in the real world by scribbling stories?_ – that one’s from his father, - or _seriously, man, a_ writer _? You’d have more luck becoming a ballerina_ – that one, followed by bouts of laughter, from his best friend. But Dan’s favourite came from his literature teacher – _Mr Howell, your lack of talent for writing is shocking and I would strongly advise you not to pursue a career where you would have to use your abysmal lack of imagination_. A truly sophisticated comment that made Dan run to his mother and cry into her shoulder while she petted his hair and hummed a soothing tune.

Yeah, that last one shattered Dan’s hopes and any sort of fleeting pride he had in his skills as a writer. So he followed everyone else’s advice and got himself into university for the respectable and hopefully future money making degree of law. Already after the first few months he realised he hated it.

And thus Dan sits behind the counter of a shitty 24/7 coffee shop that serves the shittiest coffee and the shittiest bagels whose owner pays shitty money for this shitty job and laments his shitty life choices. But at least he’s no longer miserable about his degree as he dropped out of uni a month ago. Ah, yes, the silver lining of the humongous and thunderous void-black cloud that is his life. Just brilliant.

Dan sighs for the umpteenth time since his shift started and drops his forehead onto the countertop, smacking it a couple of times for good measure. He hates night shifts. Well, the majority of the night shift, but his regular and extremely handsome customer comes in for only a couple of minutes well into the night so that’s not a huge relief.

It’s past two a.m. and of course no one’s here. Actually, the only people that dare step foot into this place at any time at all are sleep deprived students in need of a quick caffeine fix or people who don’t know any better.

There’s a not so gentle rap of knuckles on his skull and Dan lifts his head, frowning and narrowing his eyes at the girl who’s standing in front of the counter. She lifts an eyebrow and leans her arms on the countertop.

“Really? Sleeping on the job? Oh, Howell, whatever I’m gonna do with you,” Reina sighs and shakes her head in disapproval.

“What are you doing here?” Dan asks through his yawn, lifting his arms and stretching a bit. He glances at the clock which shows that it’s nearing three. Huh. He actually did sleep on his job. Not that he feels any guilt about it.

“Rude,” Reina reaches out and flicks him on the nose. “Can’t a friend just visit a friend because of the goodness of her heart, you jerk?”

Dan totally doesn’t let out an undignified noise, he totally doesn’t glare at the short Asian girl like she’s the devil herself and, most importantly, he doesn’t reach forward to return the favour only to have his hand twisted sideways in Reina’s vice grip, making him whimper like a scolded puppy. He’s way more adult than that.

“You are awfully strong for being so small,” Dan grumbles under his breath, brows furrowed, as he rubs at his sore wrist. “And you don’t _have_ a heart.” He rolls his eyes at her previous comment.

“Medically impossible,” Reina answers, tone flat. Then there’s an evil twinkle in her eyes that Dan’s learned to identify only after a year of their friendship but he doesn’t have enough time to react as the girl grabs his hand, nearly making him sprawl out on the counter, and places his palm on her chest. “See? Totally a beating heart,” she purrs, smirking evilly as Dan goes tomato red and stutters out some nonsense.

Someone clears their throat behind Reina, and Dan launches backwards so forcefully that he nearly knocks his skull into the coffee machine. His heart is rabbiting a mile a minute and his eyes are wide when he finally registers who just came in.

And just by the way, but they really need a bell above the door or something because Dan will get a heart attack soon if people keep just sneaking into the shop unannounced.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the guy looks as awkward as Dan’s feeling, rubbing at the nape of his neck.

Reina cackles like the wicked witch that she is and saunters off to sit at one of the many free tables. Dan glares daggers at her for a full fifteen seconds before the guy clears his throat again.

“Right,” Dan turns back to his regular three a.m. customer on whom Dan may or may not have a massive embarrassing crush. “The usual?” He asks as casually as he can muster as if he hasn’t been just groping his best friend. Oh, Reina will pay dearly for this; Dan already has several revenge plans brewing.

The guy nods, drumming his paint stained fingers on the counter. So Dan sets to brewing the coffee that the blue-eyed boy usually orders, setting the plans aside for now.

“How’s your project going?” Dan asks conversationally, grabbing a paper cup and turning to the coffee machine. Not even Reina’s Machiavellian schemes will stop Dan from trying to chat up his crush.

“Um,” the black-haired guy (and Dan still doesn’t know his name which drives him up the wall but also leaves some intrigue in this pseudo relationship which he quite enjoys) glances at Reina before returning those stunning eyes to Dan. “It’s good,” he manages a soft smile. “The exhibit’s in two weeks so I’m a bit stressed ‘cause I haven’t yet found inspiration for the last piece but,” he shrugs, trailing off.

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” Dan offers a smile in return and feels his heart skipping a beat when the guy’s lips twitch even more upwards. “What is it about, anyway?” He wonders genuinely curious as he goes to turn on the machine. It whirrs loudly for several seconds before quieting down so Dan can finally hear what the gorgeous boy will answer him.

“Everything,” he answers enigmatically with a slight shrug of his shoulder. “Nothing,” he adds, smirking.

“Yeah, that so answered my question,” Dan rolls his eyes, putting the cup down on the counter and ringing up the order.

“You should come to the exhibit and see for yourself,” the guy suggests. Dan watches as his long purple and blue spattered fingers wrap around the cup and thinks how good they’d look wrapped around something on Dan’s person.

“Maybe I should,” Dan mumbles, cheeks burning as he tries to push the dirty thoughts out of his mind at least until he’s alone in his bedroom.

A derisive scoff starts Dan and he remembers they’re not alone. The guy catches Dan’s eyes, biting on his lip and unknowingly making Dan suffer by doing so, and slides a bill on the counter.

“See you tomorrow,” he says and, with one final smile, leaves.

When Dan can’t see the blue-eyed boy anymore, he glares at Reina once again, pointing a finger in her direction. “You’re evil and I hate you,” he grumbles.

The girl rolls her eyes. “I’m evil and you love me,” she says in her sweetest tone.

Dan can’t really argue with that. As much as Reina enjoys embarrassing him in front of everyone and anyone, she’s the only one who hasn’t damned him to all seven hells because of his latest decision.

“So what’s his name?” The girl wiggles her eyebrows, standing up and coming back near the counter.

“I don’t know,” Dan pouts, making his best puppy eyes at her, silently pleading her to help him with this situation of utmost importance.

Reina huffs and pushes his face away, rolling her eyes. “There will come a time when I won’t be there to be your wingwoman, you know.”

“As if you’d ever leave me,” Dan scoffs. “You wouldn’t survive without me.”

“You are so overestimating yourself, Howell,” she shakes her head but there’s a small amused tilt to a corner of her lips. “Alright, I’m off,” she announces, pushing herself off the counter.

“Why were you even here in the first place?” Dan asks, confused.

Reina gives him her patented you’re-a-moron-who-doesn’t-understand-basic-concepts look that she uses alarmingly often on him. “You said your boy comes in around three,” she explains, deadpan. “I said I’d come by to watch you awkwardly flirt and make a fool of yourself. That ring any bells?”

“You actually weren’t kidding,” Dan sighs. He’s not even surprised at this point; Reina would go to a number of lengths to witness how pathetic Dan’s life is, so waking up at three a.m. just for that isn’t that abnormal.

“It was totally worth it,” she grins. “Next time I’ll bring a camera and capture it so I could admire it forever.”

Dan only looks heavenwards and wonders how in the world did he get the shittiest best friend too.

“I’ll leave you to your suffering,” Reina announces, saluting him and disappearing behind the glass door. Dan watches her go with envy before continuing on with the proposed suffering.

***

It’s been an hour into Dan’s shift and he has already served two customers who slurped their over caffeinated coffees with joy so some could say that so far the evening has been quite eventful. People who work at cafés that serve actual good coffee would say that it’s sad how little clientele Dan’s shop is getting but Dan doesn’t much care for them.

Dan has also finally fixed the radio (read: hit it repetitively until it started playing again) and he once again has music to keep him company. He’s doodling on a piece of paper, just simple strokes of the pen in time with music, and he doesn’t even notice when he starts writing the lyrics. When there’s no more space on the paper, Dan moves on to scribbling on his forearm.

The words “All was golden when the day met the night” are etched on his skin in blocky blue letters, the next line is about to follow but a customer walks in so Dan abandons his handiwork and returns to his actual job. Admittedly, he’s not great at it and with the added bonus of being clumsy he nearly spills the coffee all over the counter when handing it back to the customer. In his defence, as he touched fingertips with the annoyed girl, static shock made an uncontrollable shiver run down his spine so really it’s her fault for being static-y.

The song has changed by the time the customer leaves, having thrown Dan a dark look, and Dan frowns at her back. He plops back into his chair, takes his pen and then just stares wide eyed at his forearm. The words are gone. There’s a drawing now instead.

Alright. So he’s going crazy, no big deal. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation finally getting him so cruelly. Yep, that’s as good an explanation as any.

Still, he inspects the sketch carefully, completely one hundred per cent sure he couldn’t have drawn it even if he tried. The clashing sun and moon are stylised and in black but instantly recognisable. The lines are a bit shaky and the rays of the sun not quite similar to each other but otherwise the drawing resembles a great sketch for an even greater painting.

Dan’s gaping with his mouth open, his brain stopping for several seconds. He thinks he’s having a weird dream or something but the test of pinching himself proves that he’s not asleep and now will have a bruise forming on his arm.

“This is so not happening,” he murmurs to himself and closes his eyes.

 _Just relax. You’re sleep deprived. Things happen when you’re sleep deprived. You’re gonna open your eyes and it’ll be gone_.

To be sure, Dan counts to ten and only then opens his eyes. The sun and moon are still there. Shit.

Dan takes a couple of deep breaths, braces himself mentally, and runs a finger over one of the rays. The black ink illuminates slightly under his fingertip, tingling for a second, and when Dan retracts his hand, the sunray is gone.

 _Fucking hell, I’m a wizard_ , Dan thinks instantly. He wipes away half the drawing, the tingling sends shivers down his spine, before willing it to come back. It does not obey. Not even Dan’s impressive glaring and squinting (and a good deal of flailing his hand over what’s left of the drawing, imagining that he’s in a  _Harry Potter_ type situation) make his magic work so he gives up after five minutes.

The rest of his shift is spent wondering how the hell did this happen and how can Dan repeat it. On a new piece of paper he writes down all the variables and thinks of ways how to experiment and find out what works and what doesn’t. Unfortunately for the experiment, all the coffee addicts of the city decide that this is the perfect night to get their fix at Dan’s shop so he doesn’t really have enough alone time to recreate the conditions. Later, he thinks that maybe it wouldn’t have even worked because it might have been some sort of time thing, like when you have to make a wish at 11:11. He adds that to his list of variables.

Dan gets back to his flat at six a.m., striding into Reina’s room and shaking her awake. Upon reflection, that wasn’t the best move because as Reina turns grumbling and growling she clocks Dan in the face, quite forcefully. But he’s not deterred because of that and, after standing back up as he fell off the bed because of the punch, Dan only chants her name until she blinks her eyes open.

“’M gonna murder you slowly ‘n’ painfully,” the girl slurs, still half asleep.

Dan pays her words no mind. He stretches out his forearm, nearly ripping the sleeve off in his haste to push it up, and says, “Look.”

Reina squints her eyes in the low morning light, staring at Dan’s arm. Then she squints at his face. “What am I looking at?” She asks.

“The drawing,” Dan huffs in annoyance and glances down. There’s no drawing.

Dan stands up so quickly his brain needs a couple seconds to catch up and he turns his right forearm left and right but his skin is unmarked.

“Have you finally gone crazy?” Reina wonders, yawning.

“Huh,” is Dan’s only answer before he turns around and goes to his own room.

That day he gets the much needed sleep because he doesn’t want another round of weirdly realistic hallucinations, and tries to not even entertain the idea that magic’s real or some other bullshit.

***

“Come on, just try it,” Reina actually stomps her foot like she’s a five year old who’s not getting her way.

Dan just shakes his head, lips sealed, not daring to even open his mouth.

“I slaved in the kitchen for two hours for this and you are going to eat it, Dan Howell,” she threatens, determined. Her fingers dig into the slightly burnt cupcake that she’s holding in her hand as she frowns at him.

Dan wants to ask what she’ll do to make him eat that awfully smelling insult to any baked good but keeps his mouth shut. Not for long, however. His jaw drops when Reina honest to god uses her hidden parkour skills and jumps over the counter to stand in front of Dan. The cupcake ends up smashed into Dan’s face, a good portion of it going into his mouth. He’s too surprised to even think before swallowing and then he gags, eyes tearing up.

“Did you even fucking check what you put in here?” He manages to croak before lunging himself to the sink, scrubbing at his tongue and cupping water into his mouth.

“You’re so dramatic,” Reina answers, and Dan can _hear_ the eye rolling. “It can’t be that bad; it’s just slightly burnt.”

“I’m not talking about that,” Dan downs more water and turns to his friend. “I think you put salt instead of sugar,” he makes a face. Reina’s attempts at cooking always end failing and Dan’s usually the one paying for it. Like now. He’s probably never getting that salty taste out of his mouth. Ew.

“That can’t be,” Reina shakes her head.

In Dan’s opinion she thinks too highly of her cooking abilities. Which are shit, by the way, and proven to be so on numerous occasions. He has no idea how she hasn’t just given up already.

Reina comes closer to him, swiping her index finger over Dan’s cheek where there’s still plenty of smushed cupcake. Dan frowns when she puts the finger into her mouth. Reina scrunches up her nose. “You’re right,” she admits grudgingly.

A cough makes them both turn to the counter. Dan’s crush is once again standing there awkwardly, biting his lip. Dan thinks the universe wants him to be the first person to die from embarrassment.

“Fuck,” he swears silently and pushes Reina away from behind the counter where she’s not supposed to be anyway. Dan grabs a towel, wiping furiously at his face. Damn Reina and her abysmal cupcakes. “Sorry about that,” Dan says to the blue eyed guy, putting on a (hopefully) charming smile.

“That’s okay,” the guy answers, eyeing Reina carefully. She’s chugging water from a bottle and she only got a bite of that offensive thing that is not even worth calling a cupcake. “Um, the usual, please,” he says, those mesmerising eyes back on Dan.

“Coming right up,” Dan’s smile widens and he doesn’t even know why but when the guy gives him a small answering smile in return Dan’s beyond happy.

Dan turns around to making the order and with a corner of his eye catches Reina standing up from the table she was sat at and coming closer to the counter. He begs to anyone that is listening to not let her say or do anything stupid. It’s too much to ask, of course.

“Dan says you come here often,” Reina starts with that.

And okay, it could be worse. But Dan’s back is to them so he can’t see how his crush is reacting to that.

“Can’t be for the coffee, though, ‘cause we all know it’s shit,” she continues.

Dan nearly bangs his forehead on the coffee machine as he’s quite sure that what will follow will be even worse.

“So you gotta be either really into my friend here, or you’re just masochistic. Or both. I’m not judging; we all have our preferences.”

Yep, totally a lot worse. Dan keeps his groans of despair to a low volume.

“Leave him alone, Reina,” Dan grits through his teeth, turning around and sliding the coffee onto the counter but keeping his glare onto his friend.

“I’m just making conversation,” she holds her hands up in surrender, face as innocent as she’s really not. “I’m Reina, by the way,” she grins at the guy, extending a hand to shake.

“Phil,” the guy says, returning the handshake with an amused tilt to his lips.

Dan could dance in happiness right now. He finally knows his crush’s name! But he completely keeps his cool and only beams like a fool to himself.

Then Phil slides a bill onto the counter, taking his coffee. “Thanks, Dan,” he gives Dan the most wonderful genuine smile Dan’s ever seen in his life and walks out, leaving Dan to stare into nothingness for a good fifteen seconds.

“You’re so smitten, it’s disgusting,” Reina says, faking a gag.

“Those things you baked are disgusting,” Dan retorts, pointing at the plate of “cupcakes” that’s still on the counter. And yeah, it’s not his best come back but he’s still reeling from the fact that he just found out his crush’s name so he thinks it’s acceptable.

Reina only rolls her eyes. “You should thank me for being the awesomest wingwoman ever instead of insulting me,” she says, crossing her arms and pouting slightly.

“You’re not,” Dan scoffs. “You nearly made him run for the hills.”

“Did not!” Reina nearly screeches. “You know his name because of me. Admit it, I’m the awesomest,” she demands, narrowing her eyes at him.

Dan just shakes his head, sighing, and turns around to clean the coffee machine and to better ignore Reina.

He ends up admitting it but only because she keeps pelting those god awful “cupcakes” at him. At least, they’re good for ammunition if not for eating.

***

Dan’s once again alone in the coffee shop at the wonderful hour of five a.m. His shift is about to end and he’s going out of his mind. That’s the only excuse he has for doing what he does next.

He grabs a pen that’s lying around and succumbs to his childhood habit; he starts writing on his forearm. Unlike when he was a kid, however, he doesn’t write anything of his own creation, he hasn’t for the past several years. Instead, Dan scribbles what he hears on the radio or any favourite lyrics that come to mind.

A tingle that spreads from his forearm and into his chest stops Dan in his tracks, pen held above his skin. He watches in fascination as the words disappear with a soft glow. Nothing happens for a couple long minutes but then a sketch slowly fades into existence on Dan’s skin.

It’s black again. There’s a round moon and stars scattered around her with planets in the distance. The line work is shaky and the sketch seems a bit rushed but Dan’s amazed nonetheless. And how couldn’t he be when there’s literal magic appearing before his own two eyes.

Just to test it again, Dan presses a fingertip to one of the stars and after lighting up, it vanishes completely. Not wanting to lose the whole piece, he doesn’t touch anything else and simply admires the sketch.

Upon return home, the drawing is gone from Dan’s skin. He lies on his bed in the soft glow of early morning sunlight and twists his arm in the air. It doesn’t look anything magical or different and his brain can’t provide him with an answer of why such a thing would happen.

He falls into a restless sleep, dreaming of magical curses and luminous tattoos.

***

There’s miraculously another customer in the shop when Phil walks in the following night. The guy keeps squinting at the menu board above the coffee machine while rubbing his chin deep in thought. Dan wants to scream at him that there are literally four choices and that he should hurry the fuck up and stop wasting Dan’s time which he could be spending flirting with Phil.

Dan groans internally, drumming his fingers on the counter and trying not to glare at the customer. Phil reaches the counter smiling, murmuring a little ‘hey’ to Dan, and just like that Dan’s mood is instantly changed and he can’t stop the smile spreading over his features.

“I’ll have a black coffee,” the customer finally says but it seems like he’s asking Dan rather than stating his order.

Dan doesn’t give him more time to change his mind and spins to face the coffee machine, throwing a ‘coming right up’ over his shoulder.

The guy leaves not quite happy with his order, frowning into his cup. Dan gives zero shits because Phil is now standing before him and there’s no Reina to meddle into their, admittedly, awkward flirting.

“The usual?” Dan asks.

“The usual, please,” Phil says at the same time.

They both laugh. It’s cheesy as hell but Dan’s heart flutters at the sound of Phil’s laughter so he doesn’t even care that they’re in a rom-com.

“Have you found inspiration for your last piece?” Dan wonders, glancing at Phil over his shoulder as he’s trying to make coffee.

“Not yet,” Phil sighs, ruffling his hair and then sliding his glasses back up. Dan has no idea why he finds it so adorable. “I still have over a week but I’m gonna be screwed if I don’t think of something soon.”

“I could help you think of something,” Dan blurts out before he has time to think. “We could brainstorm ideas, maybe it would help.” He just keeps talking. Oh, why does no one shut him up. “I mean, I don’t even know what your works are about ‘cause you’ve not been helpful on that front but we could work something out. We could just do it here, or go to your place, or my place, whatever’s comfortable for you.” And yep, he just made it sound like he’s asking to have sex with the guy. Not that Dan’s against the idea but sexual innuendos when you don’t even know if the guy is into guys can get a bit weird.

Thankfully, Phil just laughs again, his whole face lighting up in happiness, and Dan forgets to breathe for a moment. Obviously, that moment has to be when he’s turning around and placing the cup onto the counter. As he’s otherwise distracted, Dan totally miscalculates and coffee spills everywhere.

“Oh, fuck me,” Dan swears, grabbing a wad of paper towels and trying to do damage control.

Phil laughs harder, doubling over. Dan hates him a little bit in that moment.

“Don’t just stand there,” he orders the amused guy. “Be useful and help me,” Dan throws another roll of paper towels Phil’s way.

“I don’t think that’s the right way to treat your customers,” Phil answers with a smile, nearly dropping the towels.

“It’s your fault,” Dan accuses.

“How is _you_ spilling coffee _my_ fault?” Phil raises his eyebrows but he still starts mopping up the brown liquid.

“Oh, whatever,” Dan mumbles, cheeks burning. He’s so not confessing his crush right here and right now.

Phil simply snickers, still amused. The cute bastard. Dan lets it slide as Phil does help with the clean-up. He makes another cup of coffee and this time focuses all of his attention on actually putting the cup on a flat surface and not being distracted by adorable guys. He barely manages it.

“So, um,” Phil mumbles after Dan gives him the change. “You only work night shifts?” He keeps his eyes on the cup, those paint stained fingers drumming on the cardboard.

This is a new development. Normally Phil leaves after getting his order but now Dan’s over the moon that his crush chose to stay and chat. He plays it nonchalant, however.

“Yeah,” Dan nods, trying and failing to casually lean on the counter. Thankfully, Phil’s still staring at the cup like it’s got all the universe’s secrets so he doesn’t notice Dan’s awkwardness. “No one else wants to do the night shift, and I don’t have a normal sleep schedule to fuck up ‘cause I dropped out of uni so…” He trails off, wondering why the hell he just mentioned that he’s a drop out. So stupid.

“Oh,” Phil lifts his head, sliding his glasses back up with a green painted finger. “Why’d you drop out?”

“I, um,” Dan stalls, thinks of ways that would not make him sound like a total loser, can’t think of any so he goes for the truth. “I hated it,” he glances away. “I actually dreamed of becoming a writer but now I don’t know,” he shrugs a shoulder.

“I bet someone told you that you can’t make it as a writer, that you’re shit, or that you won’t earn enough money,” Phil says in an amused tone and Dan looks at him, seeing a smile on his lips.

“Yeah, everyone, basically,” Dan admits.

Phil nods his head, sipping his coffee. Dan silently congratulates him on not frowning at how disgusting it is.

“I got told that too,” Phil says. “But now I’ve got my third exhibit coming up and all the haters can suck it,” he smiles wide and genuine.

“So dreams do come true?” Dan can’t help but ask rather sarcastically.

“If you work hard enough for them,” Phil responds seriously. Then he steps away from the counter, taking the cup with him. “See you tomorrow, Dan,” he promises and leaves with a little wave of his hand.

***

It becomes habit then. Phil stays for a while longer after getting his coffee and they talk. Mostly about their lives, adventures and aspirations. Dan learns that Phil’s been drawing since he was little, that he used to draw on his arms and legs, that at least his mother supported his dream of becoming an artist and she is now proud of him for achieving that dream. He also tells Phil about his own struggles of wanting to become an author and how he hasn’t written anything of his own in years. They also discuss possible ideas for Phil’s last piece but nothing really sticks.

Reina grants them with her appearance a couple of times just to embarrass Dan and see him bumble and blush in front of his crush. It gives her a lot of joy, and Dan hates her for it. He makes her wash the dishes every night for that.

Phil doesn’t stick around for longer than an hour and after he goes home Dan gets back to writing on his arms. The tingling of the magic is already familiar to him and he awaits the drawings as much as Phil’s visits. He doesn’t know how but he knows that another person is responsible for those drawings; they’re not just random magic sketches appearing out of nowhere, he’s sure of that. And if Dan’s getting those drawings then he’s quite sure there’s a person on this planet that gets Dan’s little lyrics on their skin. It’s a difficult thought to process and Dan doesn’t try to get behind the science of it, he simply enjoys what he’s getting.

***

Today’s sketch is inspired by the words “If I'm losing a piece of me/ Maybe I don't want heaven?” spiralling across Dan’s forearm. And yes, it’s sappy as hell but he was in a sappy mood, so sue him. When the words disappear, Dan can’t stop wondering what his secret-magic-doodle-on-arm friend will make of that.

The tell-tale tingle betrays the magic working on Dan’s skin and, since there are no customers in the shop and Dan had to wait for quite a while, he pulls at his sleeve to reveal the design. This time it’s in colour. Roots of a tree are deeply seated into the crease of his elbows and branches, broken and whole, wrap around his forearm. The foliage of the tree expands over his skin, seemingly swaying lightly in a non-existent breeze. Some of the leaves are browned, some are falling down, but several blossoms bloom in their stead. A few clouds are added as an afterthought on the wrist.

Dan breathes in deeply with the multitude of implications the drawing offers.

He doesn’t have much time to enjoy the as of yet the most detailed and stunning work his secret friend has drawn because a bell dings as someone enters the coffee shop. And thank goodness Dan talked the owner into finally installing the thing as now Dan quickly shoves his sleeve into place and looks only slightly frazzled when he lifts his eyes to the customer.

“Hey,” Phil smiles at him adorably.

Dan blinks for a couple seconds like the crushing idiot he is before managing a weak ‘hi’ back.

“Are you alright?” Phil’s forehead wrinkles in worry and Dan wants to reach out and smooth those lines.

“Yeah, yeah, great, awesome, just peachy.” The words tumble out of Dan’s mouth followed by a tight smile. Phil opens his mouth to offer some insight but Dan cuts him off with a “Right, your coffee.” He turns around so Phil wouldn’t fluster him even more and busies himself making the coffee.

“You’re acting kind of weird,” Phil notes when Dan places the cup onto the counter.

“I’m not acting weird,” Dan counters. “You’re acting weird,” he adds childishly, “you’re late.”

Phil grimaces looking Dan over. He bites his lip, which, in Dan’s opinion, makes him look unfairly gorgeous, but doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for so he only huffs and answers, “Got busy trying to sketch the last piece. I have to finish it by tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Dan mumbles. “Of course. You’re probably crazy busy, I shouldn’t keep you here talking to me.” Dan averts his eyes, rubbing at the nape of his neck.

Phil’s lips tug upwards. “I assure you that talking to you has been nothing but a pleasure to me,” he grins then and Dan rolls his eyes at him but still blushes slightly.

Dan’s bringing his hand down when Phil suddenly catches his wrist. Phil’s eyes widen, his mouth is slightly agape as he stares down at the half exposed drawing courtesy of Dan’s baggy sleeves. An explanation brews on the tip of Dan’s tongue but he doesn’t have time to express it.

“I have to go,” Phil tells him, sounding stunned and staring at Dan with those greenish blue eyes still wide.

“Okay,” Dan mutters slowly. With a frown he watches as Phil backs away, looking at Dan like he’s seeing him for the first time, and then bolts out the door.

Dan blinks down at the forgotten coffee cup and wonders what he’d done wrong.

***

The following night there’s an invitation card waiting for him at work. Clarissa, the girl who works the shift before him, hands him the envelope with a smirk on her ruby red lips and says that ‘some handsome and bewildered boy’ dropped it off. Clarissa is one to use words like ‘bewildered’ in actual conversation.

Beautifully written in calligraphy, the invitation simply states the date, time and location of Phil’s exhibit. So, apparently, Dan’s invited. He so doesn’t freak out, neither internally nor, most certainly, externally. It completely doesn’t make him smile like a huge dork who got his crush to finally notice him either. Nope.

He’s jittery all throughout his shift. His heart races every time the newly installed bell above the door dings, announcing a customer. But that night the bell doesn’t announce Phil’s presence for the first time since he started coming here nearly three months ago.

Dan tells himself that Phil’s clearly busy and if he really didn’t want anything to do with Dan he wouldn’t have stuck around these past couple of weeks and surely he wouldn’t have sent that invitation. The reassurances don’t stop Dan from chewing on his bottom lip or gnawing at his fingernails, though.

When he comes back home, Dan’s still too nervous to go to bed. So he clatters around in the kitchen, mixing up some pancake batter and muttering nonsensically to himself the whole time. Reina emerges from her room a half hour into the whole debacle. Her hair’s all ruffled up, there’s a pillow print on her cheek and she’s sending her patented I’m-gonna-kill-you-Howell look Dan’s way.

“Good, you’re up,” Dan declares. He’s stirring the batter like a maniac and totally doesn’t care what kind of looks Reina throws his way. “So here’s the thing,” he waves about with the wooden spoon, splats of batter flying everywhere. Reina raises an eyebrow at him. “You know Phil, right? Of course, you know him, silly me,” Dan rolls his eyes.

He starts pacing, still stirring the batter which does not need to be stirred anymore. “Anyway, he acted all weird the other night, running off without an explanation. Which is totally fine, of course. But it made me think that maybe I’ve done something but I couldn’t think of anything so then I thought maybe he’s just busy with his exhibit or something. And then he didn’t even show up last night but he left an invitation for me when I wasn’t even on shift. Which is weird, right?” Dan glances at Reina but doesn’t even wait for her confirmation before plunging onwards with his rant.

“He could’ve given the invite to me, he knows when I’m on shift. So that makes me think he’s avoiding me. But why? I haven’t done anything to scare him away, my lips were totally sealed on the whole I-might-be-falling-in-love-with-you thing. But what if he caught on?” Dan stares wide eyed at Reina. “And he got scared and that’s why he bolted. Oh my god, I ruined my chances with him,” Dan wails, throwing the bowl and the spoon on the counter and dragging his hands over his face.

“Are you done?” Reina asks, her voice impassive.

Dan glares at her through the slits between his fingertips; how dare she not appreciate the drama in his life.

“You’re such a drama queen,” the girl rolls her eyes. “Even a blind person could see that Phil’s interested in you, you idiot.” Reina flicks Dan on the forehead and he rubs at the stinging area but doesn’t retaliate because Reina’s secretly a ninja or some shit and would easily take Dan down. “Get some sleep before you manic out even more. Then we’ll find something nice for you to wear to the exhibit and you can profess your undying love for him.”

“Yeah, that’s a good plan,” Dan mumbles under his breath, considering Reina’s words. She’s right, there’s no need to freak out, it’s all gonna be fine.

Dan looks around the half destroyed kitchen. “I’m going to bed, you clean all this up,” he says, heading for the door.

“Asshole,” Reina calls after him and a spoon hits Dan on the head.

He doesn’t even turn back. “Love you too,” Dan shouts back, waving his hand.

***

Reina makes good on her promise and dresses Dan up all nice and proper for such a fancy event as an opening of an art exhibit. She also pep talks him into asking Phil on a date at the very least. However, all that effort of Reina’s goes out the window once Dan reaches the venue and his nerves get the better of him.

Glancing around the brightly lit room, Dan can’t help but feel like he doesn’t belong here and that Phil’s a bigger deal than he thought. Nevertheless, he swallows his anxiety (and a flute of champagne) and strides to look at the first piece.

There’s music playing in the background. A string orchestra have put their own spin on some classical pieces and merged them with a few pop songs. It strangely suits the atmosphere.

Dan goes from painting to painting, admiring the colours, trying to interpret the message or just plain staring at how beautiful and detailed Phil’s artwork is. It’s not quite abstract as Dan had thought it would be. They’re mostly landscapes: valleys and hills, seasides and forests, at night, at dawn, in broad daylight. Shapes are hidden in every painting. A deer or a seahorse, a mermaid or a unicorn, Dan thinks he even notices an alien in a painting of galaxies.

As he’s going to the main piece of the exhibit, Dan senses the tingle that comes with the magical drawings he gets on his skin. That’s never happened before, Dan’s usually the one who writes a lyric and only then the drawings follow. He’s quite intrigued now but doesn’t dare to look as there are too many people around. Instead, he stops and stares at the canvas in front of him.

In big bold letters above the painting ‘inner landscapes by Phil Lester’ is written. This piece is bigger than the others and more colourful. Greens and dark blues, goldens and purples, blacks and crimsons, greys and aquamarines clash and intertwine on the canvas creating a surreal experience. The shape of a somehow familiar tree emerges in between, not quite dividing the colours but rather joining them together. Dan can swear he sees his own profile in the way the leaves swirl in the middle of the tree.

“Hey,” Phil’s suddenly beside him and there’s a flutter in Dan’s heart at the sight of him.

“Hi,” Dan smiles. “Missed you at the café last night,” slips past his lips unbidden and Dan reddens, turning away and staring straight ahead at the painting.

“Sorry,” Phil says regretfully and Dan chances a glance at him. He’s biting his lip, those mesmerising eyes cast downwards. “I had to finish the final piece.” Phil looks up at the main painting of the exhibit.

“That’s your final piece? You painted that in two days?” Dan asks, stunned, he might be gaping a little.

“Yeah,” Phil rubs at the nape of his neck. “I am more than slightly sleep deprived but it was worth it.” He laughs lightly.

Dan smiles at him. “It was,” he agrees, glancing at the canvas again. “It’s really amazing, Phil. How did you finally get the idea for it?”

Phil grabs Dan’s wrist. “Come, I’ll show you,” he says and Dan follows him easily.

They weave through the throng of people to the balcony on the other side of the huge room. Dan’s eyes are stuck staring at the way Phil’s permanently paint stained fingers wrap around his wrist, Dan’s whole attention is captivated by the warmth of the skin on skin contact and the tingles that spread from their contact point to every cell in Dan’s body, making his heart beat faster. _Dreams do come true_ , he thinks with hope swelling inside of him.

The bannisters of the balcony are wrapped in fairy lights, a few plants sit in a corner, there are a few paper lanterns hanging above. It’s cliché and cosy. They stop by the railing; Phil’s still holding Dan’s hand as he faces him.

“Is it top secret?” Dan continues their previous conversation. “Did you steal the idea?” He gasps in mock horror, clutching at his heart exaggeratedly.

Phil rolls his eyes but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “I got the idea from you,” he says.

“Me?” Dan lifts an eyebrow. “You rejected every idea I offered during our brainstorming sessions.”

“Yeah, ‘cause those were awful,” Phil smirks.

Dan narrows his eyes at him and smacks Phil on the shoulder. How is Dan even crushing on him? Phil appreciates Dan even less than Reina does.

“I thought of it when I saw the drawing on your arm the other night,” Phil explains.

At that Dan squirms uncomfortably, retracting his hand from Phil’s. The drawings are something magical, something special to Dan. Only he knows about them and their true nature and he doesn’t want to share that with outsiders, no matter how much Phil came to mean to him. Dan’s protective of those little soul baring moments he has when he writes a lyric that resonates with him and gets a reply, an interpretation of that same feeling from another person. He feels connected to them, whoever they are, like they’re his soulmate and he doesn’t want anyone knowing about it or using it.

“That’s great,” Dan mumbles out. And it is. Or at least it should be because Phil finally got inspired and created the last piece in time. Somehow it feels like theft, though.

“While I painted, I kept listening to the song the lyrics you wrote were from. I really hoped you’d like the interpretation,” Phil smiles shyly, fidgeting in place slightly.

Dan’s brain halts for a second before going into overdrive. So does his heart.

“You –” He stares at Phil with wide eyes, gaping for the second time that night.

Phil laughs. “Yeah, me,” he says. “I was in shock too when I realised you’re the one who’s been leaving messages on my skin in some magical way.” Phil wiggles his fingers, putting emphasis on the magic-ness of it all.

“And your reaction was to run away and not share this with me?” Dan throws his arms in the air more than slightly agitated.

“I wanted to surprise you.” Phil answers with the same bout of flailing.

“Well, consider me surprised,” Dan counters, puffing a breath. He has no idea how he should react to this news. Indignation seems like a good option.

Phil shifts nervously once again and gnaws on his lip. “I have another thing I wanted to ask you.”

“Another surprise?” Dan lifts an eyebrow. Logically, he probably shouldn’t be as annoyed with this as he is but how the hell didn’t he put two and two together? Dan knew that bloody tree looked familiar.

“Um,” Phil rubs at his neck. “I don’t think so. Just check your arm,” he urges.

Dan obliges him but not without a little scepticism. He rolls up the sleeve of his suit jacket and his pristinely white shirt to reveal a simple question – ‘will you go on a date with me?’. An unbidden smile spreads over Dan’s lips, the irritation completely forgotten at this new development.

“I’ve been making a fool of myself in front of you for two months, what do you think?” Dan can’t help but roll his eyes.

“Yes?” Phil asks hopefully.

“Yes,” Dan replies and then he does the only logical thing which is kissing Phil like he’s been wanting to do for ages.

Phil smiles against Dan’s lips before melting into the kiss. Dan’s fingers are tangled in Phil’s hair and he can feel the heat of Phil’s hands on his waist even through layers of clothing. The tingling returns with every touch they share and it seems to intensify, spreading shockwaves through Dan’s body, making fireworks explode behind his closed eyelids. They’re both breathless when they pull apart.

The noise of the party is behind them and the noise of the city beneath. Twinkling lights surround the couple and stars shine above them. However, the two have eyes only for each other and pay no mind to anyone else. The balcony is filled with whispers and laughter and promises and kisses, and they get lost in their own little perfect universe.

Dreams do come true. If you’re brave enough to reach for them.


End file.
